These Days

January
4th The night went well, especially now since I am off stocking and a floor maintenance. The move is a welcome one to me, the oldest person on the shift. I've come to accept that as a fact in almost everything I do, with the exception of going to the nursing home. The furry demon lounges just inside the living room where the carpet begins. Usually he's in front of the heating vent, but the furnace is broken and I await repairs. He moves only when food is placed in his bowl and at a speed that shows only a mild interest. While he nibbles I fix some tea and toast to consume before taking medications. While the affect takes I post and work on the computer. Before sleep overtakes me I get to the sofa so I can hear a knock on the door.
The phone rings, waking me, to tell me that the repair man will be there later in the day. When he finally arrives the problem can not be completely repaired. A circuit board has to be ordered and will arrive in a few days. I work on poetry, responding to the responders of EST and post at my sight. Also “Pain without Gain” posted.
After much sleeping, restless as it was, I work to go to work. Just a cup of coffee, don’t feel much like eating ( I never was much of a breakfast person no matter what the time of day it came ). I sip and work on the computer, posting “Gaining Perspective” and managing my site a bit. No new responses to make, since no new responses were found. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll read someone elses poetry and respond to that.
5th At work I can actually enjoy the slower pace of being a floor-man instead of a stocker. The job varies little from day to day as the load is always nearly the same. Five bathrooms to clean before beginning the sweeping. This fills the time while the stockers put down the day's truck. All items come on pallets, mixed without thought of where it goes in the store. The is a lot of wasted time traveling from aisle to aisle offloading due to the way the main warehouse loaded the pallets. The running gag is that they're all on heavy drugs, a theory that has yet to be disproved.
Lunch comes and besides eating I must lay down to rest my back and shoulders. It seems that advanced age has weakened that part of my body. It figures, since my father's disability is in that area. Just something to factor into my life, sort of like the inability to get a good night sleep without drugs. At least these are legal, unlike the ones that fill the surrounding streets. Crack and smack are the main drugs in the neighborhood. These are the gang drugs, which means that the are controlled on the streets by local homeboys that belong to one of several gangs. These are mostly black boys to teenagers of seventeen, where the laws change, they are the visible handlers and sellers. Most of the city's deaths are related to the street drugs. White drug dealing is done more indoors, where it's safer from cops and competition.
6th I posted one of the two poems I wrote last night, but failed to read anyone else or even respond to those responding. 'Twas Not very good of me and people might take me for being snobbish. Went shopping today for food, and made and over the top dinner. Marinated strips of beef quick fried, tortolini of spinach and cheese covered in a garlic red sauce, salad and asparagus. A dinner / breakfast almost too filling because I took a snooze after clean up. Barely had enough time to pack a lunch before rushing out.
It was a warm night on my departure and the hookers were on almost every corner, just like in spring. I usually don't pay much attention to them, but the are one of the economic indicators of the city. It's a bit early in the month for so many to have smoked up their money, but it is the holiday season and the weather is unseasonablely warm. I think I might like a nice heavy snow to blanket the city, but that's just me. Really snowy winters are rare around here. Sure we can get a major snow, even blizzard conditions, but not a winter of snow. Not that I advocating a season of bitter cold and lots of snow, yet it has its charms and might shut up those global warming nuts.
I taught kindergarten today. It's always a fun time, because the children are still relatively sweet. The biggest challenge was 'rest' after recess. The music is an assault on the adult senses, probably designed to induce comas. The children are unaffected laying on the multi-colored rug in the semi-darkness. Well, most were unaffected, a couple actually fell asleep. One was a little girl whose father brought her and left his cellular phone number in case she got sick again. Seems she had been up half the night and kept the household awake also. Cutting, pasting, and coloring are the tools to learn in kindergarten. Numbers, letters, words and behavior are all learned by cpc methods.
7th Work again, Work again. My biggest contention here now is the music, hip hop / hard rock, & rap. I can tune it out, to a minor degree, but its the other side of the crap that played at kindergarten. One is too mellow and the other is too driving. Perhaps I will get some earplugs, I prefer silence anyway. Is my writing a good thing? Is this the release and expression that Doc.F wanted? I'll guess I'll find out Tuesday when we meet again. Till then I am hesitant about my shattered personality. After a few poems it might be a good time to touch on the story of Kat's Shadow. Also, the time might be good to work on that part of my site. I'm not sure this writing is good exercise for that writing, but what the hey.
10th
The weekend came and went, rather quickly. Saturday I got home at about 6 am and slept till almost noon ( only being woke once ) and lounged with a cup of tea as I pondered the great void. By 2 p.m. I was doing things, like laundry, pausing to eat and cook as the mood struck me. By 9 p.m. I was pondering the great void again so decided to ponder the human condition. Notably I thought to contemplate the female part of humanity.
Strip Clubs and other Visual Venues
What makes an interesting visual venue? Well, I've found that it needs not just something good to look at, but also some side event or events for the occasional distraction. The Haven club ( on Haven Street ) was a good example on this Saturday night as usual. Some clubs have many girls, weekends can have almost thirty at the larger clubs, but the Haven is small. It has all the requirements needed by a stripe club, a stage and a nice shiny chrome pole. The back wall of the stage is mirrors and there is a barrier between girls and patrons as required by law. The mirror wall is optional, but most have them if possible. The bigger clubs have center stages with the bar circling ( the bar being the required barrier(no back wall of mirrors) ). This night there were just five girls, young women, dancing for dollars. Three dances an hour, in costume, topless, and then with just a garter belt. The gather about twenty to thirty dollars a set plus any drinks that might be bought for them. Not bad money for a bit of dancing, and they have fun. I might try it, but old men probably wouldn't do as well as pretty young females. I’m not sure if the female of the species has the same appreciation of the human form as males do, but there were quite a few onlookers that were female in the bar that night. The Haven Club is very much a neighborhood bar, which gives it a more wholesome feel ( if this can be said about a strip club ). A couple of biker couples came in and sat at the bar and friends of the strippers came in to cheer them on, having a few chilly ones in the process. The most interesting of the night were a trio of females that came to celebrate the impending Marriage of one of them. They were drinking heavy ( two out of three that is ) and got somewhat wild toward closing time. Garments came off of non-employees.
10 th.
Monday, the beginning off the week and the end of furnace repair. The repairman came and gave my furnace a new circuit board and it works as advertised once more. The cat is pleased for now he knows when to lay in front of the heating vent.
Work at 10 pm
Tuesday, places to go and people to see. A couple of doctors with control over my future had to be met and convinced of my self determination. Otherwise I just slept or attempted to sleep, which might seem like the waste of a day, but I will be subbing more now and need to be charged.
17 th
Wednesday thru Saturday mostly work and sleep.
Sunday I went down to visit with the Old Folks and general helping at the Nursing Home.
Monday, A nice lunch, lawyer stuff, food shopping, cooking, laundry, and sleep.
Tuesday work on my web site and even posting a poem.

18 th
In the greater scheme of things, these times are insignificant. The cosmos is vast and we just a speck, or part of a speck.
I taught 2nd grade today and it was a class I had taught already once this year. All classes have their characters and their challenges, but knowing them a bit and they knowing me helped smooth things somewhat. I'm sure that's why I keep getting calls back to the same schools. By the time I left at 4, I was near exhaustion. Slept almost 4 hours and back to my other job.

19 th
Upon returning home after last night's work I went directly to bed and soon to sleep. It was only a couple of hours later that I woke reminded that I had forgotten to close the bedroom door. This remembering was aided by the invasion of the furry demon that lay upon my chest. I rolled over. He moved to lay on my legs and I returned to sleep. Sometime later I must have wiggled my toes, or the cat imaged that I did, and he pounced. After being woke with teeth makes on my toes, I got out of bed and got something to eat.

20th
Work and sleep; it seems that's all I do anymore. Oh sure, I did write and post a poem today, but that hardly seems like much accomplished. Today, Friday, is the last work day of this week. It has been a short week, being off Sunday/Monday and no school Monday because of Doctor King's birthday, then half a day Thursday and all day Friday for teacher development. Yet, I feel more tired than I should.
21 st
In everything there is a something.
I kinda like that line, but not sure how to fit it into a poem.

23 rd
Every Sunday is the same, yet there is differences. The differences are not always for the better, but the same is always being down at the nursing home to visit my parents. Yes I know I am very lucky to have them still around, many don’t have two living parents at my age, but it has become a self imposed obligation. My mother has Alzheimer’s and I fear if I miss too many days she won’t recognize or remember who I am. I believe that would crush my spirit even worse than going there every Sunday does. Working Saturday nights mean I don’t get there as early as I used to, before lunch, but I get there in the early afternoon after a couple of hours sleep. The place is depressing. Not quite as bad as a mental institute, but too close for me to ever be comfortable there. The help has a very casual attitude about helping anyone, if the do anything it seems like it is a great inconvenience for them to do their job. This is not everyone there, but most. Sunday night meal is the worse of all with some times no help in the dining room at all except family members doing what the hired help should be doing. This dinner is always the worse meal, food wise, of the week also. Usually late and poor quality it adds to my depression and adds to the difficulty of feeding my Father. He’s gotten to that point where he can no longer feed himself or do many things for himself that he used to do. He is very feeble, but then he’s very old and the fact he can still walk for short distances is due to his determination. The other residents ( I barely reframe from the term inmates ) can make things even more difficult. Last night I had to go back to their room to get some straws ( Dad must have them to drink since he can’t lift a glass anymore and the help seemed to be at a loss to understand and find some ) and found another resident in their room just milling around touching things. The nursing assistants who were in the hall must have seen her go in, and they must have known it was not her room, and they did nothing. I had to move her out and explain that it was not her room and she should be in it when no one else is there, like she was a small child. This lady was rather new, so I didn’t know her, but it is common for some of the wanderers to just barge into places they don’t belong. Some have no Idea where they are and some can hardly remember who they are or were. It’s very sad, very depressing to deal with these people. It is easy understand how the nursing staff could get to the callused nature they show. And this is one of the better places around. I’ve seen some of the lesser quality places and those are unacceptable living conditions. Sunday are difficult.

Gloom

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